


Sonder

by mistysinkat



Series: Prompts and Drabbles [9]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Solavellan, lots of introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:35:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5120258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistysinkat/pseuds/mistysinkat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Solas tries to reconcile what he feels with what he must do when he realizes that Lavellan is just as real, just as right, as he is or any of the People ever were.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sonder

He walked the pathways of the waking world alone and in horror.

With each elf he met, the world drew in a little more around him. Too close and claustrophobic, it was suffocating him. Stealing the very air he breathed until he sought refuge from it in dreams.

He walked the pathways of the dreaming world in wonder and with friends.

With an open mind and heart, he found what he was looking for. He found room to breathe amidst the magic and knowledge - history upon history - of the Fade.

Surely, it was the waking world that was false? His dreams tasted more real, more true, than anything -  _anyone_ \- that came his way while his eyes were open.

_This world is wrong. It was never meant to be. These people are but shadows of what they should have been._

_I must fix this._

His mind did what it needed to in order to protect his heart, cold cunning in the name of mercy.

_These are not people. They are pitiable, whatever they are, and to help them I must fix this._

The waking world became more tolerable then. A plan. He had a plan, and it would rid the world of these sad phantoms of men and elves to replace them with what should have been. What he’d ruined.

———————–

Another mistake. Another miscalculation. He shouldn’t have gambled on the darkspawn Magister, but he’d had little choice and even less patience. He was paying the price now; throwing his lot in with the Seeker and the Spy. They moved in sad little circles, feeling important, but changing nothing. They were just as hollow, just as wrong, as every other creature that drew breath in this world he had built.

They were all he had.

And now there was talk of someone who had stumbled from the Fade. Someone who had been there physically.

Someone who mattered.

————————

He watched over her as she slept, tossing and moaning with fevered nightmares. The mark on her right palm was difficult to look at. He knew it as his own. He knew its power… and what it could do to the elf sleeping before him.

Guilt pricked his heart then, and he shook his head to clear it away. He didn’t have time for this, not now. He had to find a way to take back his mark, take back his foci, and heal the world.

Still, a small voice rose from his heart.

_Please, let her live._

His mind, the protector of his world, silenced the voice with reason.

_If she dies, I lose the mark. She must live._

—————————-

Time passed. Frustrating.

The Herald, as she was called, could close the rifts with  _his_ magic. He wasn’t surprised.

He was surprised each time she sought him out, however.

“You came here to help, Solas. I won’t let them use that against you.”

“It’s extraordinary that you can go so far into the Fade…”

“Thank you for… not being most people…”

He was surprised by her actions. He was surprised by the steel in her will and the compassion in her heart. He was surprised by how real she was.

_Real_ , his heart insisted.  

_No. If the rest aren’t real, she can’t be either,_  his mind reasoned.

——————————

More time passed. He showed her the way to Skyhold when Haven fell. He watched as they named her Inquisitor. He watched as she struggled to find the right path, walking the fine line between _their_ belief and  _her_ will.

With each mission, each victory, she grew brighter, stronger. He found his heart growing louder when she was near.

_Real_ , it cried.  _She’s real and there and warm and alive._

_The plan_ , his mind hissed.  _They must be restored. She is a mockery of what she should be - just like all the rest._

And then she kissed him; and for a moment, his heart sang.

_She’s real and right and just as she should be. There is no flaw in the world that created someone such as her. How could there be? She is your equal, just as vibrant as you or any of the People ever were._

“You change… everything.”

And everything  _was_ changed.

For a time.

———————————

“Arlath ma, vhenan.”

_Maybe the world doesn’t need to be fixed?_  The heart.

_You know that isn’t true._ The mind.  

_But she is…_ The heart.

_The people are suffering. However bright, she is only one person._  The mind.

_The people are extinct! She is here and in front of you and you love her._  The heart.

_I am only one person, too._  The mind.

And so his mind and heart warred with one another, even as he fought at her side to defeat Corypheus. With every little smile, every whisper-light touch, each and every time he held her and felt her heart beating, strong and sure, against his chest, his own heart grew stronger.

It eventually won.

_She is real. They are all real. You cannot do this._  The heart.

_I…. can’t?_ The mind.  

_No. You must tell her._  The heart.

_I must._  The mind.

———————————-

Crestwood.

Isolated. Pleasant. Romantic.

_I will tell her. I will tell her who I am and what I’ve done. I will tell her. I will tell her._

His mind chanted endlessly as they walked toward the little spring in the grotto. She took his hand, warmth that bolstered him as he prepared to trust her like he’d trusted no other since… before.

“The best gift I can offer you is the truth.”

“You have become important to me. More important than I could have imagined.”

_Important_.

His mind fixed on the words his heart had just spoken.

_More… important?_

_More important than what?_

_More important than the People? More important than saving these poor shadows from this wretched mistake of a world? Look at her face! She bears the mark of a slave and calls it heritage. Even she is wrong, even she is less._ His mind awoke with a vengeance.

_She is not less. She is not wrong. Real and right and good. Tell her._  The heart argued.

_I will not. I can’t. I walk both sides of the veil. I see the hurt and the evil and the hunger that’s infected both worlds. I must be the one to repair it._ The mind countered.

_But if she is real, then they are all real, and that means…_ The heart cried out.

_I know what it means. It is unfortunate… but a necessary death precedes rebirth. I tore both worlds asunder with my own two hands. I won’t let that mistake stand._ The mind concluded with cold finality.

The heart remained silent.

And so, he broke  _her_ heart. He walked away from her as she fell apart in the dark. He walked away as his own hurt grew, angry and raw, and his own tears fell.

_I will do this,_  The heart whispered, aching, _But she was real. They all are._

_I know,_ The mind replied raggedly, tormented, _and this will hurt beyond reason._

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted writing over at Tumblr for the word "sonder," which is the realization that each passerby has a life as vivid and complex as your own.
> 
> It’s been a minute since I’ve tried to write Solas. I hope this is ok! I decided to play with the idea that he sort of dissociates and doesn’t view the world, or the people in it, as actually real. I also wanted to have his mind and heart talking to one another for some mind-boggling reason. >.>;


End file.
